


Emptiness

by orphan_account



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Ghosts, M/M, even though the sex isnt actually in the story, meh i dont even know, so technically this could be tagged ghost sex???, they has sex before this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 08:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4385621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benvolio's losing his mind, and doesn't know what he has left to live for. Luckily, Mercutio's there to remind him. (Written for a Tumblr prompt)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emptiness

Benvolio was trapped; in his own mind, his own memories, stranded in the image of those two bodies- his cousin and the girl he loved- lying side by side in that tomb. Never in his life had he seen anything more heartrending- not just because he knew and had lost his own cousin, but because of how tragic their love had been. 

And he’d never even had a clue.

If he’d known, he might have been able to do something. This was the thught that haunted his every waking hour. Why hadn’t Romeo told him? He had always told his cousin everything; what on earth could have possibly driven Romeo to keep such a massive secret from the knowledge of his closest confidante, besides the girl being the daughter of Capulet?

He sat, hunched over on his bed in the darkness of his room; he hadn’t turned on the light for days, not since Romeo died. If it even was days; since the discovery of the bodies time had seemed an unreality to Benvolio, almost an absurd idea. Minutes flowed into each other; days seemed to blur. How long had it been now? Weeks? Months? Maybe even years?

He should have done something, should have said something. He should have seen it. He could have. He might have been able to prevent it, he could have prevented it, if only-

“Ben.”

The voice from behind him caused his body to tense up; the warm hand that came to rest on his bare back felt real, and it was this that finally managed to drag him back to the present.

“Come on,” Mercutio sighed, pulling him close and burying his face in the crook of his lover’s neck. “Get out of your head. It won’t help.”

“You don’t get i-”

“It won’t.” The prince’s nephew’s voice was hard. “What happened was tragic, but it was also helpless and inevitable and nothing you could have done would have changed it. Romeo didn’t say anything for a reason. He killed himself for a reason.”

Benvolio shivered slightly; the room was too cold, and the wide open window let in a breeze that held too much of a chill for August. “But he’s dead,” he whispered, his voice small and broken. “My aunt’s dead, Tybalt, Juliet… everyone is dead, and I’m…”

“Alive,” Mercutio finished, pressing another kiss- soft, almost earnest- to his jaw. “You’re still alive, Benvolio.”

“I don’t want to be.”

“Hey.” Benvolio wasn’t expecting the forcefulness with which Mercutio grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around; his eyes, golden, alive, and blazing with anger, pierced into his with furious intensity. “Don’t say something so stupid,” Mercutio ordered harshly. “Don’t act like you’re alive for nothing.”

The dark haired boy wrenched himself out of his lover’s grasp, recoiling and turning in on himself again. “What am I alive for?” he demanded furiously, the hot spill of tears stinging his cheeks once more. “What is there to live for now?”

A long silence served as his answer, a silence that felt as empty as the Montague mansion now was; when Benvolio turned around, he half expected Mercutio to not even be there at all. But the other was still there, bare-chested under the sheets and frowning at him as if there was something he desperately wanted- needed- to say to him, even if he couldn’t find the words.

“Yourself,” Mercutio muttered at last, and Benvolio tensed up. His head hung in shame; gently, Mercutio lifted his chin and planted a deep kiss on his lips that left Benvolio’s mouth chilled and feeling as if it were tingling.

“I love touching you,” muttered the blond, lying back in bed but still clutching Benvolio’s hand tightly in his own. “You’re so warm. The night feels cold to me; but you burn like fire. I’d touch you forever if I could. I want to.”

Benvolio tilted his head, staring somberly at the clock hanging on the other side of his room. It was almost four in the morning; he hadn’t slept all night. “What’s stopping you?” he asked. “We have each other, now.”

“Yeah.” Mercutio’s voice was flat. “Of course.” A rustling of sheets disturbed the peace in Benvolio’s mind, and then- “Hey, Ben.”

Benvolio made a move to turn around- but a sharp “Don’t,” from Mercutio paused him in his tracks. His brow furrowed, even as Mercutio’s hands lingered along his shoulders once more, wispy touches that almost didn’t feel real.

“See my uncle tomorrow. And my brother. You… you can help them out. I know how much you like helping people, you old do-good.” Mercutio laughed softly. “But really- see them. Verona needs… new people to help guide her. I think you’d be good for the job. Better than me anyway.”

Benvolio frowned, unable to see where this was coming from. “Sure, I’ll see them,” he replied. “As long as you’ll be with me.”

A pause. He couldn’t feel Mercutio’s hand on his back anymore. And then, in a voice barely louder than the wind whipping through the curtains: “I’ll always be a flea on your side, Benvolio. Count on it.”

At last, Benvolio turned; but the only thing remaining where Mercutio had been just seconds ago was an empty bottle of some hard liquor he had drained who-knows-how-long ago and crumpled bedsheets.

Benvolio remembered.

Feeling as empty again as he had felt every minute since that warm weekend at the end of July, he reached for another bottle and took a long drink.


End file.
